


Tucking In

by AriRashkae



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, Wash really needs a nap, as shippy as you want it to be, canon typical language, set between S10 and S11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 01:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7247104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriRashkae/pseuds/AriRashkae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It turns out, it's actually pretty easy to get Wash into bed, if you know what you're doing.</p>
<p>It also turns out, Tucker knows what he's doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tucking In

Tucker stretched and scratched his scalp as he ambled through the halls of Blue Base. He tugged at the waistband of his sweats when it threatened to slip down over his hips. It was stupid to have to put on pants just to get a drink of water, but – 

Yep, Agent Insomnia was sitting at the table, zombie staring at a data pad.

Tucker watched him for a moment, waiting for Wash to realize he was there and yell at him for not being in armor, again, then get flustered when he realized that it was still the middle of the night, _again._

Although, Wash was in sweats too, so it looked like he had at least _tried_ to go to sleep first this time.

Tucker gave up and strolled over to the cabinets, grabbing a bottle of water. Wash finally looked up when he was less than careful about quietly shutting the door. He blinked a few times, eyes crossed, finally scrunching up his face and shaking his head as he tried to focus.

"Tucker." He blinked a few more times before scrubbing his face with both hands.

"Wash." Tucker tried not to grin. Wash's hair was sticking up in all directions. It looked like he had run his hands through it multiple times in frustration. "Good story? Lots of naughty bits?" He unscrewed the cap and took a long swallow, waggling his eyebrows at Wash.

Wash pulled a face, ignoring Tucker’s joke. "It's the inventory reports. I'm trying to find a way to make our supplies last as long as possible. Until we know if – _when_ we're going to be rescued –"

" ‘– we need to be careful with our resources.’ Yeah, yeah." Tucker waved one hand as he leaned against the table, next to Wash's chair. "You only said that 5 times yesterday. I was thinking about checking your pulse."

Wash scowled. "Very funny." He stared at the pad for a few more moments before pinching the bridge of his nose. "I just can't focus."

"Because you should be in _bed_ ," Tucker said. "Preferably sleeping, but I wouldn't complain if you wanted to do something else."

Wash tried to scowl again, but his lips twitched ever so slightly. "You are so full of – Hey!"

Tucker took advantage of Wash's momentary distraction to swipe the data pad and sit on it. "Hay is for horses."

Wash made a half hearted grab that Tucker blocked with surprising ease. Maybe all those drills were starting to pay off. Or maybe Wash was just that exhausted. "I need that."

"Are we going to die?" Tucker asked bluntly. He set down his water and folded his arms. 

Wash blinked, thrown off stride but the sudden seriousness of Tucker's tone. "... what?"

"In the next few hours. Are we going to die if you don't rearrange our rations for the hundredth time?"

"I –" Wash started to argue, reconsidered, and let out a slow breath. "... probably not," he admitted.

"Almost definitely not," Tucker corrected. "And if we do, it'll be because Caboose or the Reds do something incredibly _stupid_ , not because you couldn't find a way to make beef stew MREs last an extra few days."

Wash took another deep breath, held it, and let it out slowly. " ... I can't sleep."

Tucker snorted. "Dude, you think I haven't noticed? I'm starting to think you don't even know where your bed even _is_."

"Sure I do. It's down the west hall and three levels up," Wash said, completely deadpan.

"Wash, if you've been sleeping with our food supplies, I may just have to take my chances with Simmons' cabbages." Tucker couldn't help grinning, though.

Wash actually managed to crack a smile, before it faded. He looked down at his hands, resting flat on the table. "I'm serious, though. I can't sleep. I can't stop worrying that something will go wrong and get you all killed, and it'll be _my fault._ Because I could have stopped it, if I’d been better prepared."

Tucker pushed himself to his feet. "OK, now I _know_ you've been up way too long, if you're starting in on the emotional bullshit." He stood behind Wash and laid one hand on his shoulder.

"What are you going for, a Vulcan nerve pinch?" Wash's hand shot up and closed around his wrist when Tucker's thumb ghosted over the site of his ruined implants. "Don't–"

"Relax, you paranoid freak," Tucker said. "I picked this up from a girl in high school. She wanted to go into massage therapy and was always looking for someone to practice on." He pressed lightly just to the side of the spot where Wash's spine met his skull.

The effect was immediate. Wash sucked in a breath, his eyes fluttering closed. His hand slipped off Tucker's wrist to dangle at his side and he _whimpered_.

Tucker grinned again, now using both thumbs to massage the little hollows on either side of his spine. Wash swayed in his seat. The sound he made _could_ have been called a moan, if it had made it out of his throat. Tucker followed him down as he drooped, until his head rested on the table.

He continued for several minutes, squashing the urge to make jokes about Wash trembling and gasping under his hands. Finally, he stopped and slid his hands to Wash's shoulders, anchoring him. "Better?"

"I can't feel my feet and I forgot which way is down," Wash mumbled.

Tucker laughed. "Sounds about right. Bet you can sleep now." Wash managed to roll his head to the side in an attempt to glare at Tucker but it lost some of its heat when he couldn't even pick his head up. "C'mon. If I let you fall asleep here you'll be even crankier than usual in the morning." He tugged on Wash's arm until the Freelancer stumbled to his feet.

Wash swayed for a few moments, one hand braced on the chair. Tucker ducked under his arm and grabbed him by his waist. He always forgot how _tall_ Wash actually was. He acted like such a dork most of the time it was easy to forget he was almost as tall as Caboose.

"This doesn't get you out of drills tomorrow, Private," Wash said.

"Psssh." Tucker waved his free hand before grabbing the wrist resting on his shoulder. "If I thought it would I'd have tried it ages ago." Of course, he'd have tried it ages ago if he'd realized how little sleep Wash was actually getting.

"You do seem to find creative ways to avoid duty," Wash said drily.

Together, they managed to stagger down the hall to Wash's room, which, for the record, was _not_ three flights up off the west hall. Wash was actually almost asleep on his feet by the time they made it through the door.

"Dude, I swear, if you pass out on me I will leave your ass on the floor," Tucker grumbled. Next time he was getting Wash into bed _first_. 

Wash half-collapsed on the bed, only managing to pull his feet up with help. Tucker tried to rearrange Wash into a more comfortable position, but gave up when it seemed to be waking him back up.

"Tucker?" Wash's sleep-slurred voice stopped him at the door.

He looked back. "Wash, seriously, you –"

"... thanks."

Tucker couldn't help smiling a little, watching Wash fade. "Go the fuck to sleep, Wash."

**Author's Note:**

> So I am a horrible horrible person who loves bad puns and word play for titles and descriptions. If you expected something more blatantly Tuckington, I'm sorry; I tried to tag it that it wouldn't be obvious. I like to leave things open to the imagination sometimes.
> 
> I know they spent most of their interactions in S11 arguing, but I can't help but think that they were more like [Vitriolic Best Buds](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/VitriolicBestBuds) than actually upset with each other and it was more Wash's paranoia and insistence on military discipline that was driving Tucker bonkers
> 
> Also, this is my best attempt at describing something my husband does for me when I'm extremely stressed out. Unfortunately for us, we discovered it by accident, and I was not sitting down. It's a good thing he has fast reflexes ;)
> 
> ETA: We need a tag just for trying to get Wash to go the fuck to sleep. (For example, a_taller_tale's [Go The F*ck To Sleep](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8284469) XD )


End file.
